Call Me
by BonesDoUrden
Summary: Ever wondered what someone famous would be if they weren’t what we all knew them to be? I have. And this is the result of such ponderings. Rated for violence.


"I'll be home soon, baby," he whispered, cradling her face in hands, their forehead's pressed together. She had tears streaming down her face and she had handfuls of his tan pixilated uniform clutched in her small hands, as though trying to stop him from going.

"Why do you have to go, John?" her voice cracked and stumbled over the sentence.

"We both knew this would happen baby… This is the life of being married to an active duty soldier… I love you, Jazz."

"I love you too, Jay Jay." Jasmine gave him the best smile she could muster and wrapped her arms around his neck when he lifted her into the air, both hugging her tightly to his Kevlar shielded chest and kissing her with desperation.

"Twelve months," he murmured, reaching into one of his many pockets and produced a long silver chain with a broad silver band hanging from it: _his wedding ring._ John slipped it over Jasmine's head where it hung next to the silver and blue crystal necklace he had given her those many years ago. As far as he knew, she never took it off unless she was in the shower and even then it was less than an arm's reach from her.

Jasmine looked at him with determination in her eyes and reached back, the chain of her silver necklace shifting as she undid the clasp, "Bring it home John. I want _you_ to put it around my neck again when _you _get home _in one piece and alive_." He bent over far enough for her to reach around his neck and clasp the necklace; he picked up the pendant, kissed it, then gently tucked it in under the uniform and the Kevlar, shielding it from what would come.

"I will, Jasmine. I promise." they shared one final, fast kiss before his Platoon Commander—who was a First Lieutenant—called for all men who planned to serve for God and country to get on the awaiting plane.

"I love you John!" Jasmine yelled after him.

He raised a silent hand as he ran with his other platoon members to the extended ramp of the plane. He would later regret not returning the sentiment.

—X—

"What's that?" a member of his squad chuckled, nudging John's elbow and pulling him out of the trance he had fallen into while staring at Jasmine's necklace.

"The necklace I gave my wife when we were little kids," he smiled, a memory of that day flashing before his eyes. He laughed once, "She made me promise to make it back so I could give it back."

One could suppose that they had always been together, ever since she had moved in next door. As they grew, their feelings morphed, became more solid, more apparent. By the time they were teenagers, John was sneaking out at night and climbing up the ivy lattice that covered that particular side of the house, pushing aside Jasmine's white lace curtains as he climbed through the window; she was always waiting up for him, sitting cross-legged on her queen sized bed, reading a book. She would look up with those gorgeous blue eyes and tuck her hair behind her ear with one hand while the other closed her book and set it on the nightstand, smiling at him. The chain of her necklace had gotten almost too small for her to wear it and John had bought her a longer chain for Christmas one year.

As he remembered those carefree, easy days, he watched the other guys dig through their uniforms for various small tokens of home. Of the lives they were leaving behind for the next twelve months.

"Black," the guy who had nudged him introduced himself, "Jasper Black."

"Cena… John Cena."

"Nice to meet you,"

John smirked, "Yeah. You too… If we survive, drinks are on me."

—X—

The click of an empty cartridge made him sigh and he held up his gun, looking down the line to Black, "Black!"

He looked toward John before reaching into the crate beside him and throwing one, then two, then another clip of bullets. He gave a nod in Jasper's direction as he turned back toward the shooting, his gun once more loaded and ready. Honestly, John felt kind of bad for Jasper—originally, John had been the one crouched behind the bunker, throwing clips of ammo to the other Marines close to him, but then there was this incident with Jasper and a couple Iraqis… Something about some hand-to-hand and knife-point skirmishing… He wasn't right in the head after that. So, John and Jasper switched places, John doing the fighting and Jasper throwing the clips.

His jacket was laced with tears and holes from his own skirmishes and gun fights. In some ways, he was a sort of sinner, partaking in a war that wasn't his to fight—it wasn't _America's_ war to fight—in other ways he was sort of a saint—protecting the lives of innocent Iraqis from their more radical countrymen. And at some point along the line, he had wound up taking care of a tiny baby girl, no more than six months old. He had been trying to protect her family and as her mother had lain on the ground, a dark, rank mud surrounding her—created from her blood mixing with the sand—she had (in very rough, broken English) made him promise to care for and raise the baby girl.

His Platoon Commander had been beside him, and John looked to him for guidance; he gave a silent nod, promising, "I'll find a way to get her home with you. I'll do whatever the hell I have to. That little girl deserves to live, not die." He turned back to the woman, a pleading look in her eyes and he nodded slowly, gripping her shaking hand reassuringly. With her last, bated breaths she smiled and whispered, "Allahu Akbar- may you be blessed…"

Landon, John's Commander, gestured for his gun, "Give me the gun, Cena. You're going to need both arms and your wits about you to protect that baby—I'll cover you until we can get back to safe ground."

John sighed. He knew that safe ground—the base—was more than three miles away and their MTVR had been blown up shortly after arriving in the city. His squad was a few buildings down, caught in cross-fire and the rest of the platoon had been air-dropped and were scattered throughout the city. He wrapped the baby carefully in the poor excuse of a decent blanket that covered her in her crib, taking extra care to cover her face to shield her from the warzone outside but to keep her from smothering to death.

"Jackson," Landon said calmly into his small radio, "Is there any way out of here on the main roads?"

"No sir," came the crackly reply, "We're still pinned down and it looks worse closer to the city wall."

"You boys got a back door over there?"

"Mathers, check for a back door!" Jackson yelled in the background. A few seconds later he said, "Yes sir there is. Do you want us to rendezvous with you at your current position?"

"No! No. We'll meet you. Meet us just outside your current position in the alley-way. We have a new priority: _Get back to base as fast as fuckin' possible, while keeping Cena and his package completely covered._"

"Package?"

"Don't ask questions soldier! Now is not the time! …Just go!" he tossed the radio back into a pocket and looked at John, "You ready to go?"

John nodded, the baby held against his chest, her face turned toward it, "I have half a mind to take my Kevlar off and wrap it around her."

"Already thinking like a father," Landon smirked and led the way out of the building, an M16A1 in each hand, the butts pressed against his shoulders, scanning their surroundings as they ran toward the other building, crouched low—John even ran with one shoulder brushing the wall of the buildings they passed, giving him only three sides to watch.

Jackson and the rest of the squad were in a defensive, half-circle formation and relaxed when they saw he and Landon coming up out of their running crouch.

"No questions asked." Landon ordered, allowing everyone to regroup for a few moments before they took off, carefully navigating the dark, too quiet alley's in search of a way out of the city. Eventually they did and took off running as fast as they could into the sweltering heat of midday in the desert.

John was exhausted and the base was only just appearing on the horizon; he looked down to the dirt and blood smeared blanket bundle that was a baby and blinked, finding new strength. He had a job to do. He had to _protect_ this baby at _all costs_.

Landon seemed to be the only one who was able to keep up with him when he surpassed the others in his squad and John gave him a quizzical look.

"I promised to keep you covered until we reached base. That's what I'm doing."

He nodded and kept running, focusing on the warm bundle in his arms and the rhythm of his boots against the sand in time to his heartbeat.

"Relax soldier," Landon had to order him after they made it past the bunker and into the encampment. John obligingly collapsed back in the sand, his breathing coming in hard, heavy gasps and Landon allowing himself to fall back in the sand next to John, his breathing slightly calmer from the lack of an adrenaline rush. John slowly unwrapped the tattered blanket from the baby's face, simply staring at her big brown eyes, short glossy black hair and dark sandy complexion.

"Do you have any idea what you're going to call her?"

John smiled, softly touching her tiny cheek, "Sanaa… It's Jasmine's favorite name for a girl."

—X—

"You owe me a drink, Cena." Jasper laughed, grabbing his canvas bag and moving to get off the plane.

John grabbed his as well, following Jasper off the plane. There was a group of various civilians, some running forward when they saw the face of their returning Marine.

"Jay Jay!" A voice cried and John looked in the direction of the voice, seeing Jasmine sprinting for him. He dropped his bag and held his arm out so he could hug her.

"I told you I'd make it back, Jazz." he grinned and shifted the sleeping bundle in his other arm, "…Here she is."

Jasmine looked at her with astonished wonderment, hesitantly reaching out to touch Sanaa's cheek, "She's so…perfect."

He held her away from his body a little, gesturing for her to take Sanaa and reached into his uniform, taking the silver and blue crystal pendant from his neck and slipped it over Jasmine's, smiling all the while, "Let's go home."

And so the new little family lived happily ever after.


End file.
